


Do Not Disturb

by enemyofperfect



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Community: Meme of Interest, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Gen, Humor, Missing Scene, POV Outsider, offscreen Harold Finch, the premise is the warning, the rating is for creepy, the rating is not for porn, unconscious John Reese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:05:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1799809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enemyofperfect/pseuds/enemyofperfect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Did you ever think it was weird how in the pilot, Finch had Reese kidnapped and tied to a bed?  I always thought that was pretty weird.  I think the guys Finch hired to do it probably thought so, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Not Disturb

**Author's Note:**

> Written last year in response to [this delightful prompt](http://meme-of-interest.dreamwidth.org/1507.html?thread=298723#cmt298723): "Can we get an outsider POV from Finch's security guys in the pilot, who clearly were the ones who had to drag passed-out-drunk Reese from his motel and zip tie him to a headboard for Finch? Because really. What were they *thinking* was going on?" Fandom means never being alone when you wonder these things!
> 
> Just so we're absolutely clear, though -- this is a lighthearted fic about two characters who for all they know are facilitating noncon, and who go through with it anyway. Read safely!

Andy is rougher than he has to be once they get their guy inside the hotel room. Before that, obviously, it was all _good old Dave, never could hold his liquor_ \--not that anyone asked, either at the run-down motel or at this upscale place, or that anyone anywhere really cared. But appearances matter, if only to give people an excuse to go on not caring, and, credit where it's due, Andy is enough of a professional to remember that.

Once they've closed the door on any possibility of an audience, though, it's clear that he's got a score to settle with the guy who showed them up in front of the boss. Which, okay, Steve can remember a time when being made a fool of was something he took personally, too, but when your cheap revenge extends to letting Steve's back take a couple hundred pounds of dead drunk because you decided to drop your half of the aforementioned drunk while his arm was still looped around Steve's shoulder, that crosses a line.

"Hey," Steve says, once he's managed to stand straight again, "who's got the broken nose here, anyway?"

Andy pauses in dragging the guy's feet up onto the bed to scowl. "Yeah, and who's got the godawful lump on his head?"

"That you got breaking my nose," Steve says dryly.

The reminder of being sent careening into Steve like they were a couple of clowns instead of experienced security professionals doesn't seem to amuse Andy, but he's exaggeratedly careful as he goes back to arranging the guy on the counterpane. "You want me to tuck him in all nice, too?" he asks when he's done. "Maybe sing him a lullaby?"

"I think I could happily go the rest of my life without hearing you sing," Steve assures him, and feels around in his pockets for a flex-cuff.

"Screw you," Andy says, but it's pure reflex action. So is tuning him out, by now. Steve kneels up on the bed for a better reach.

Cuffing the guy to the headboard takes some attention--you want the plastic snug enough to be secure, but not so tight as to cut off blood flow--and it's while Steve's working on that that Andy says, slowly, "This is kind of fucked up, isn't it?"

"How do you mean?" Steve asks.

"We're tying an unconscious guy to a bed and leaving him there," Andy says, like he's only just worked this out.

"Well, yeah," Steve says.

Andy looks agitated and semi-defiant. "So I'm saying that's fucked up!"

"It's kind of kinky, anyway," Steve allows. He eases back off the bed and sets to work double-checking the unconscious guy's pockets for anything that could damage plastic restraints or human beings.

"Kind of-- You are _not_ telling me this is some kind of date," Andy says.

Steve shrugs. "Why not?"

Andy stares at him incredulously. "We've got a really rich guy," he says, holding out one hand. Then he holds out the other hand and says, "And we've got a _really homeless guy_." He shakes both hands, emphasizing the distance between them.

"We don't _know_ he was living on the street," Steve says, philosophically. "Maybe he just grew out his beard and raided a thrift shop." He concludes his search, having found nothing of interest. The poor guy is still out cold. He looks younger now that he's shaved--probably too old to be Steve's son, but he could have dated his daughter, maybe. He looks almost harmless, asleep. "People do weird things for love, rich people do weird things all the time. I can only imagine what rich people in love might get up to."

"He _smelled_ , though," Andy says, insistent, like this is the ultimate proof.

Steve sighs and turns to face him.

"Okay, so you're saying--what? Our employer has a fetish for large, violent, destitute men who don't like him back?"

It's exactly what both of them are thinking, but the second Steve says the words, Andy goes into reverse, the way Steve knew he would.

"Or he could know something," Andy says defensively. "He could have questions for him."

"Making this pretty much exactly like dozens of other jobs we've had," Steve points out.

"Well, that's true," Andy admits, after a beat.

Steve gives him a thin, sideways smile and starts going over the room.

It's just a quick pass to make sure they haven't missed any obvious weapons or left any obvious traces or anything, but Andy trails after him as he works. "Why'd you tie his left hand?" he asks, while Steve is checking the flex-cuff one last time.

"Because he's left-handed," Steve says.

"Oh." Andy digests this. "He's pretty dangerous, though. Shouldn't we tie both?"

"See, you pretend to judge, but secretly you're into it," Steve deadpans, but Andy looks so distressed that he relents. "Instructions were to leave one hand free, we leave one hand free. Not my funeral."

"Well, okay," Andy says, only a little doubtfully.

There's really nothing left to do except declare their creepy little mission complete, but Andy seems to want to linger, like he still thinks there's something left undone.

"I really don't think he's going to pull free," Steve tells him.

Andy nods distractedly. "You really think it's okay, to leave him like this?"

So Steve thinks about it.

With just the one hand tied, he'll be able to use the phone--assuming he wakes up, and assuming it really is connected, these being two assumptions Steve is only mostly comfortable making. He's clearly way out of Steve and Andy's league as far as close combat goes, but that doesn't mean he's invulnerable. If he has his wits about him the next time somebody comes close, he could probably snap them like a twig. On the other hand, with adequate precautions, there's really no limit to what you can do to a restrained captive.

Steve takes one last look around the room, glancing from the sturdy headboard to the guy's shoes where they lie atop the hotel's clean linens, and finally to his own eyes staring at him from the mirror beside the bed.

Looking back to Andy, he raises his eyebrows and says, "I think the last guy who didn't like a job Mr. Crake offered him ended up zip-tied to a bed."

Andy blinks at him.

"Yeah, okay," he says, and turns to go.

Stuff like this, it makes you think. Well, it makes Steve think, anyway--Andy it probably just gives mild indigestion.

But Steve's mortgage is all but paid off, his granddaughter's college fund is looking pretty healthy these days, and Pam's been making noises about wouldn't it be nice to spend their retirement together, and not in a way where he's in an urn cluttering up her mantelpiece, either. Maybe it _is_ time to get out of this line of work.

He leaves the lights on in the room, and makes sure to hang the _Do Not Disturb_ sign on the door handle on his way out.

**Author's Note:**

> The name "[crake](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crake)" belongs not only to a number of birds in the the rail family, but also to one of the main characters in the dystopian (and supremely creepy) novel [Oryx and Crake](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oryx_and_Crake).
> 
> Incidentally, the Person of Interest wiki informs me that [Finch's security](http://personofinterest.wikia.com/wiki/Finch%27s_Private_Security) continued to work for him past the pilot. Whether this is evidence of wavering resolve or that Finch and Reese's amicable stroll through Central Park put Steve's mind at ease, I leave as an exercise for the reader.


End file.
